Confessions of an Insta-Addict x

*Takes picture. Crops using Insta-Size
application. Edits using filters directly on Instagram. Spends 5 minutes
thinking of a fun and interesting caption. Spends an additional 5 minutes
pondering on what the fellow Instagram-mers might say. Gains the courage to
post the picture. Holds breath until there’s a response/ like.*
This, would be the stereotypical
Instagram Addicts procedure followed before posting a photo on one of the
world’s most influential photo-sharing platforms, which hit the technological world
hard like a meteor. Instagram, much like any social network that I eventually
developed any addiction to, was one of the applications that I vowed to never
get, or never enjoy. Regardless of my initial intentions, much like most
addictions in the world, I slowly drank from the fountain of endless data
charges, so much so that I found myself thirsting for that very water whenever
I was bored. Okay, perhaps I am being a tad bit dramatic, but the truth remains
in the fact Instagram continues to wipe all of my airtime and data out, and I
continue to feed the habit, simply because I am an addict. I’m addicted to
Instagram, on face value, might only
be in existence for the mere purpose of posting pictures of anything and
everything that interests you, it too can be used to
portray a different life to that which we normally live. Although sunsets and
fancy blog pictures fill up my feed, nobody can ever possibly document every
moment of their day to give a true reflection of the way in which they really live.
And even if we could, many of us wouldn’t want that, simply based on the fact
that we prefer to show the world what we would have them know. Anything beyond
our personal limit of privacy would be rendered, ‘too much information’.
Another disclaimer that Instagram
fails to advertise, is the fact that there is somewhat of an unwanted
side-effect that comes with drinking from that fountain of ever-existing
negative airtime balances: the desire for instant gratification. Instagram,
much like any and every social network, to some extent leads to the desire for
instant gratification, which likely comes from the inevitable belief that
‘Likes’ on a picture, are equated to likes in real-life. The first time I
received 11 likes on an image, I felt like I had made it in life, and although
the feeling was in itself fleeting in more ways than one, the feeling was there
nonetheless. I realized at that very point, that the race was not against any
force other than the one that tends to define us if we let it, which is the
approval we tend to seek from other’s and not from ourselves.
I love Instagram, I most likely always
will, and I think that it’s a great tool for marketing brands, sharing our
lives and for feeling like a part of something big, even if it involves people
from different countries. At the same time, I see the need to curb the
addiction a bit, spend my free time with reading good books, appreciating the
sunset instead of constantly cropping it to fit Instagram page, and appreciating
everything else that doesn’t ever make it onto my feed. I look forward to a positive
data and airtime balance, more time on my hands, and whatever else that might
come my way. And if a moment that is so precious as to incline me to whip my
phone out and document it comes my way, well, who am I to deny myself of the
opportunity to remember something that I want to hold close to my heart.

*Fact: I found myself on Instagram about 4
times whilst attempting to write this post.



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